


Christmas Shopping

by spikesgirl58



Series: 14 days of Christmas [13]
Category: Are You Being Served?, The Girl from U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28239174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: Where better to find the perfect gift for your partner than at Grace Brothers Department Store?
Series: 14 days of Christmas [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050131
Comments: 11
Kudos: 11





	Christmas Shopping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chocobelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocobelle/gifts).



Yes, the music was tinny and hokey, the decorations were cheap plastic things and the snow fake, but Mr. Humphreys was still in the Christmas mood. 

Sales in the men’s ready-made department had been good and he had a nice commission to look forward to at the week’s end. Even Mr. Lucas had managed his own share of sales today and was bustling around, tidying up. Mr. Grainger took the lull in foot traffic to ‘inventory the socks’ a polite way of referring to his perchance for nodding off.

Mr. Rumbold had already snuck out minutes after giving them their Christmas bonuses. They were due for their Christmas party in just a few hours. Now all he had to do figure out what to do with **it**. **It** sat on a chair, nearly glaring at him with all the distain its glace fruit could muster. While he respected Mrs. Slocomb and loved her cooking, this was the exception to the rule.

“Just you wait,” he said to it. It, wisely, said nothing, knowing that it would out-live him and probably Mr. Lucas as well. Mrs. Slocomb glanced over at him and he smiled.

“Hello, I was wondering if you could help me.” The American accent caught Mr. Humphries’s attention. That was probably why Mrs. Slocomb was looking at him. Thank his lucky stars for that.

How she has managed to avoid Captain Peacock’s notice was beyond him. “Yes, ma’am, how may I help?”

Immediately, Captain Peacock was there, his expression akin to having smelled something bad. “Mr. Humphries, you are not the senior salesperson.”

“Captain, Peacock, the senior salesperson is otherwise engaged.”

Captain Peacock opened his mouth to rebuke him, but the young woman interrupted. “That’s okay, I want him. He has kind eyes.” April Dancer stared down the rather haughtily-looking gentleman with a practiced ease. If she could work her will with Mr. Waverly, she could work with anyone.

“Very well, if that’s what you prefer.” Captain Peacock managed to make it sound as if she’d committed a crime against humanity.

“It is, thanks.” She pretended not to hear the muttered, “Pompous American.”

Mr. Humphries also heard and leaned forward. “Pay no attention to him. His feet hurt. I think Americans are lovely.”

April beamed. “Thank you. I knew you were the right one.” She set her vividly-colored handbag on the counter and sighed. “I’m at some tight ends here. I’ve been to just about every other department in here, even something called Novelty Candles.”

“Let me guess, there’s one certain person on your list that defies a gift.”

“Yes, my partner. He’s British and I’d like to get him something that reminds him of home, but not so much that he’d think moving back here. I’ve only just gotten him broken in.” April laughed and Mr. Lucas was all attention.

“Hmm, is the man fashion forward, such as yourself?”

April laughed. Her checkered jumper and the bright red sweater she wore beneath it did make a statement, not to mention the matching checkered hat. “Perhaps not quite as much, but he tries. Sort of a swinging flamboyant soul trapped in…” She glanced over at Captain Peacock and she nodded in his direction. “In that and desperate to get out.”

“Oh, dear, we must remedy that. How much were you planning on spending?”

“Well, not the Earth, but he is a dear.”

“Is he a very close friend?”

“Oh, yes!” 

Mr. Lucas grabbed the Robes rack and started wheeling it in their direction as Mr. Humphries asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, intimately close?”

“Mark?” April started laughing at that. She laughed until she had to clamp her hand over her mouth and think very grim thoughts indeed.

“I am going to venture, no then.”

“He’s just a friend.” She patted Mr. Humphries on the arm. “But you are sweet to suggest it.”

“Perhaps a nice suit.” Mr. Lucas headed for the Made to Measure suit rail.

“I really don’t know his measurements and he works for his uncle, who’s a tailor.”

At that he spun on his heel and said to Mr. Humphries, “Probably not, then?”

“Probably not.” Mr. Humphries thought for a moment. “What about a nice sweater?”

“Are they British sweaters?” April asked, her curiosity piqued.

“They are so British, they must be washed in tea,” Mr. Lucas said. 

At April’s expression, Mr. Humphries murmured to his co-worker, “Let’s not get carried away shall we?” To April he said, “The exuberance of youth. What size would you guess the gentleman? My size?”

“More like his,” she said, studying Mr. Lucas. “Rather broad in his chest.”

“Sweaters, Mr. Lucas!”

“Sweaters, Mr. Humphries!” 

A drawer was plopped down in front of her. “Now these are of a more seasonal design. We have Frosty.” He held up a bright green sweater. “And then there’s Santa. “This time is was a red one. “Or we have reindeer.” He shook it out and April’s face went red. At her expression, Mr. Humphries turned it. Due to a factory error, it looked as if two reindeer were having an intimate moment with one another. He also colored and threw the sweater aside. “Definitely not.”

“And they say you folks are so without a sense of humor.” April smiled and pointed to a soft blue one. “What about that one?”

“That one is pure cashmere, miss.”

“That would go with his eyes beautifully. He has the bluest eyes. Just like yours.” She held it out to him, “Would you mind?”

“Of course not.” He’d put it on his head and jump around like a rabbit if he had to. He slipped off his coat and pulled on the sweater. Then he batted his eyes at her. “What do you think?”

“I think you’ve made a sale. How much?”

“It’s a steal at eighty pounds.” He took it off carefully and began to fold it, ready to set it back in the box.

“I’d take it, but it’s not very British, is it?” She sighed. “And it is perfect.”

Then Mr. Humphries had an idea, one that he still maintains was his best idea to date. “Ah, but we are having a special offer. With your purchase, you receive a locally produced Christmas pudding.” He held it up triumphantly.

“A what? Oh, a fruitcake.”

“A British fruitcake,” he said with pride. “A special offer while supplies last.”

“All right, you have a deal!”

Captain Peacock watched the young woman walk away, clutching her purchase and her fruitcake. “Mr. Humphries, was that Mrs. Slocomb’s?”

“I cannot tell a lie. It was.”

“How ingenious. I only wish that I’d thought of it.” He checked his watch as the bell sounded. “And I do believe it is time for our party.”

Mrs. Slocomb hurried over to Mr. Humphries. “So, tell me, Mr. Humphries, how was it?”

“How was what, Mrs. Slocomb?”

“My Christmas cake, you daft boy!”

“Mrs. Slocomb, I can honestly say, it’s gone.”

And all was right in his world.


End file.
